


For the Love of God

by shinnyluvssuju



Category: The Young Ones (TV 1982)
Genre: M/M, and vyvyan is his assignment, so rick is a failed angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:47:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25690810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinnyluvssuju/pseuds/shinnyluvssuju
Summary: “Of course. Yes, why wouldn’t my final assignment be the absolute worst of the worst of humanity? The assignment that will define the rest of my eternity. Who is it, then?”“Basterd, Vyvyan. A charming bloke in his first year of grad school to get his doctor’s certification that enjoys obnoxious heavy metal music, drinking himself silly on weekends, shouting, destroying objects for his own amusement, and smoking too many fags.” Mike snorts. “This one oughta be a treat.”
Relationships: Vyvyan Basterd/Rick (Young Ones)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	For the Love of God

**Author's Note:**

> I had this one sitting on the backburner for a while and finally finished it. xoxo

Rick sits in Head Office bouncing his knee at warp speed. Mike is pacing behind his desk going over Rick’s paperwork from the last year. It isn’t looking good, and Rick can tell just by the look of disapproval on Mike’s face and the occasional tutting he can hear. The agony of the suspense and silence is simply killing him. Something’s got to give. Rick lets out a whistle. “...not my best work, we can agree, but it’s the effort that counts, isn’t that right Michael?” 

Mike looks at him emotionless. “Rick,” he says. “It’s the effort that counts when you mess up once. Hell, maybe even twice. The effort doesn’t mean a bloody thing when it’s the fifth time, or the tenth time,  _ or the thirty-third time.” _

“Thirty-three, eh?” Rick asks. “I could’ve sworn I counted thirty-two…” 

Mike slaps the paperwork onto his desk. “I can’t accept this sort of failure anymore, Rick. It reflects poorly on me when the Big Man looks at all the reports. At this rate I’ll surely get demoted if I don’t nip this thing in the bud.” 

Rick flattened out his shirt. “I can assure you I’ll be taking this criticism to heart, Michael. I appreciate you taking the time to make me a better angel, and I  _ promise  _ this little talk of ours will show in my  _ next  _ report--”

“Rick, it’s time to get real,” Mike interrupts. “I can’t keep getting the belt for your mistakes, so this is how it’s going to go; you get one more chance. One more, RIck. If you can show me that you can finally do your job right, your skin might be saved.” 

“...can we make it two?” 

“Does it look like I’m joking around?” 

Rick sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Alright, even though I think you’re being a little harsh, I’ll agree to your terms. And naturally I’ll do just fine and win back the respect of everyone in Heaven. But uh… just one question.” Mike raises an eyebrow. “Let’s just say hypothetically that… that maybe I don’t do a good enough job. Hypothetically, what would happen in that completely far-fetched made up scenario?” 

“If you goof up another job, Rick, you’re fired.” 

Rick blinks. “And then what?” 

“And then you get sent back to General Population.” 

“What?!” Rick exclaims. “ _ General population?  _ Are you out of your bloody mind? A soul such as mine was never meant to rest with the General Population! I’m not like the rest of those, those cretins!” 

“You best prove yourself to be better than the cretins, then.” 

Rick rolls his eyes. Mike has a capacity to be very unfair and judgemental, always has. So what if an angel never does a proper job of watching over their assigned humans? It doesn’t make them less of an angel! Isn’t there such a thing as… imperfect angels? Bullocks… maybe there isn’t. He clears his throat. “So, erm… who is this human that will become my important task, then?” 

“Good question.” Mike opens up a drawer on his desk and rifles through some files. After a moment he removes a single piece of paper and squints at what is written on it. “As of now all the humans are spoken for. Except for one, that is.”

“Why’s that?”

“Nobody could stand him. Kept doing ridiculous shite, and every angel assigned to him gave up.”

“Of course. Yes, why wouldn’t my final assignment be the absolute worst of the worst of humanity? The assignment that will define the rest of my eternity. Who is it, then?”

“Basterd, Vyvyan. A charming bloke in his first year of grad school to get his doctor’s certification that enjoys obnoxious heavy metal music, drinking himself silly on weekends, shouting, destroying objects for his own amusement, and smoking too many fags.” Mike snorts. “This one oughta be a treat.” 

“This is unfair!” Rick screeches. “You’re just making me do this because you don’t like me and want to see me fail, isn’t that right? Well I’ll take this issue up to the top, you can be sure of that! Once I tell them that you’re  _ discriminating  _ against me, they won’t stand for--” 

“Shut your mouth for a single second, Rick!” Mike sighs and rubs his temples. “It’s the Boss who gave me this order, alright? Complain all you want and it won’t do any good. My suggestion would be to get to work and fast, unless you like living with the common people.”

“You will bloody pay for this,” Rick threatens, pointing at him. “Mark my words you complete and utter--” Before Rick can finish his dramatic conclusion to the argument, Mike snaps and suddenly Rick is transported to the garden of a crumbling apartment complex. 

Garden is a generous term for the patch of soil full of weeds Rick has found himself in. He spits some dirt out of his mouth and rubs the back of his head where he’s surely hit a rock. It’s the dead of night in the human domain. Rick hears crickets and that’s all at first, until the peacefulness of the night is slashed apart by music that makes Rick want to rip his ears off. This is supposed to be rock and roll? Cliff Richards is rolling in his grave! Literally! 

Rick stands up and stares into the open bedroom window the music is coming from. A dim light and cigarette smoke flows out, and Rick takes a deep breath. Although mistreatment from the top is more than typical, there isn’t a thing he can do about it. He mentally prepares himself for the task ahead-- it’s just some buggery young man. Sure, it will be irritating. And sure, maybe Rick will wish he was actually able to kill himself. There’s one thing worse than his current assignment, though, and that’s an eternity in General Population. “Buck up,” Rick says to himself. “It’s go time.” In seconds, he appears in the bedroom of one Vyvyan Basterd, slouched over a desk with a cigarette in one hand and a text book in the other. 

Rick is staring at Vyvyan in disbelief. For starters, the room is a pigsty. There’s barely anything in it save for a bed, the desk, posters on the walls and clothes all over the floor. There’s empty beer bottles and cans scattered about as well as more cigarette butts than Rick could count. To his left, Rick sees a fist sized hole in the wall. Across the room, he sees another. Rick is still absorbing his surroundings when Vyvyan decides to grab another beer. He turns around and suddenly notices the stranger in his room. Rick stares at him. Vyvyan stares back. He turns off the radio and says, “Alright, then.” 

Dumbfounded, Rick replies, “Er, alright.” 

Vyvyan looks around. “Uh… who are you?”

“Rick,” he says, but then remembers he has to be professional. “I mean, I am Rick, your guardian angel! Here from the heavens sent to watch over and protect you! Divine intervention! Pretty neat, eh?”

Vyvyan blinks. “You don’t look much like an angel.” 

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Rick asks with offense. 

“Well for one, you haven’t got any tits.” 

_ “So?” _

“Aren’t angels all long haired, big titted ladies in gowns?”

“Absolutely not!” Rick’s face flushes with anger. “Haven’t you heard of the Archangel Gabriel? Michael?” 

He shrugs. “No, not really.” 

“Haven’t you ever opened the bloody bible?” 

“Yeah, one time at Christmas service when I was… six, I think.” 

“So then how do you know what an angel’s supposed to look like, huh?” Rick asks with a hand on his hip. 

“Everyone knows what an angel looks like, you prick.” 

“Is that any way to talk to a  _ messenger of the lord?”  _

“What are you going to do about it, smite me?” Vyvyan stares him down. 

Rick is truly at a loss for words. This is going to be harder than he had originally thought. “I--you can’t just--ugh!” Rick throws his hands in the air. “You are simply the worst human I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting!” 

“Why thank you,” Vyvyan grins. “Now can you move? I was trying to get another drink before you interrupted me.” 

Rick spends the next few days miserably following Vyvyan around as he goes about his business, ignoring Rick a frustrating amount. Rick gets so mind numbingly bored that he begins throwing things at Vyvyan to amuse himself, but this ends quickly when Vyvyan decides to retaliate by setting a book alight and hurling it at Rick. He has no idea how he’s going to get Vyvyan to listen to a single word, let alone redeem this man’s soul.

Despite Vyvyan’s disgusting habits, his lack of cleanliness, general unpleasantness and penchant for violence, his only passion seems to be for his studies. It confuses Rick to no end. Why would someone with seemingly no empathy for others choose a career path in which empathy is the sole requirement? Rick would completely give up on Vyvyan and accept defeat if not for this tiny inkling of hope for his redemption. There has to be something good inside Vyvyan. Rick knows that God doesn’t create life for no reason, even if it looks to be useless on the surface. 

“Don’t you have any friends?” Rick sneers. Insults are the only way to get Vyvyan’s attention. “You’re always just here getting pissed by yourself and slaving over those sodding medical books. Isn’t university supposed to be about fun? Parties? Exploration? Getting laid?”

“I’ve got a question for you, first. Are you capable of speaking at a frequency that doesn’t cause physical pain to the ears?”

“I’m serious, Vyvyan! It’s not  _ normal  _ for a student to be so isolated.”

“I’ll have you know, smartass, that I’ve got a date Saturday night. Is that enough socializing for you?”

“Really? Oh goodie!” Rick claps happily. “You might not guess it by looking at me, but I’m a sucker for romance. Go on then!”

“Go on and what?”

“Details! Tell me all about her! Is she pretty? Does she smell nice? What’s her name?” 

“Why are you asking when you’re just going to stalk me all night anyway like you I always do?”

“Just play along, won’t you? You can be such a buzzkill sometimes.”

“A buzzkill, me!” Vyvyan scoffs. “You wouldn’t know a buzz if it sat on your lap and called you mummy! When have you ever had any fun?”

“Oh, I have plenty of fun,” Rick says in a suggestive tone. “Fun of the… sexual kind, if you know what I mean.” 

“Ha! But you’re an angel! Aren’t you unable to sin?” 

“I don’t sin!”

“Then how can you have any sexual fun?”

“You don’t need to sin to have sexual fun, you naive child.” 

“Ain’t sex before marriage a sin? An angel can’t get married to another angel!” Vyvyan pauses for a second. “Or can they?”

“An angel marriage? Don’t be ridiculous,” Rick says. “It is true that we tell you lot that sex before marriage is a sin, but we don’t care all that much to be quite honest. We just know you all would shag anything in sight without  _ some _ rules and regulations.”

“I don’t believe you’ve ever had sex. I think you’re a  _ lame virgin.” _

“Virginity is a beautiful thing, you idiot! I’ve done other things than stick my prick into someone’s hole, okay? Things that are far more fun. Like watching people dress through their windows.” 

“That is quite fun,” Vyvyan admits. “But my point still stands.”

  
“Whatever, I’ll be here when you get stood up!” Rick scoffs. 

“Sure, whatever.” 

Vyvyan doesn’t get stood up. In fact, what happens is even worse, and Rick begins to feel bad for all the jokes he made. Vyvyan’s date plays nice for most of their dinner at the semi-fancy restaurant, talking about his life and letting Vyvyan go on about his (he doesn’t say much, as per usual). From Rick’s point of view, the whole thing doesn’t go half bad. He watches with interest as Vyvyan, for once, acts polite and friendly. It’s surprising. It goes on that way until the end of the night. 

It all goes ass up when Vyvyan asks his date when he’d like to get together again. The bloke chuckles nervously, and then reads Vyvyan the “it’s not you, it’s me” act. He apologizes, tells Vyvyan he’s a nice guy, and thanks him for the evening out. Vyvyan acts like this doesn’t bother him, but when he begins his walk back to the flat Rick sees a few tears forming in his eyes that he wipes away discreetly. 

Vyvyan gets home and flops onto his bed. He lazily lights a smoke and sighs. “Go on then,” he says. “Get on with it.” 

“What?” Rick asks. 

“Do it, make fun of me.” 

“Hey,” Rick says quietly. “I wasn’t going to make fun of you.” He sits down on the bed. “I like being mean to you, but not  _ that  _ mean.” 

Vyvyan snorts. “Thanks.” 

“It’s not your fault things didn’t work out. That’s just the way it goes sometimes. Besides, you were actually very… pleasant. I didn’t think you were capable of that.” 

“What’s the point?” Vyvyan says, turning onto his side. “Might as well stop wasting my time. I’d rather be alone.” 

“That’s just plain bullocks,” Rick smiles sadly. “You wouldn’t attempt to meet people if you wanted to be alone. Actually, I think you sort of like people, Vyvyan.” 

“You’ve got me all wrong, mate.” 

“There’s no point in lying to me. I know everything. All my information comes from the Omniscient Source.”

“Cliff Richard?”

“No idiot, God! God is the only one that has known you your entire life! He knows who you truly are! And since you were assigned to me, I got all the intel. You’ve been found out, pal, so no use playing around anymore.” 

“I thought God didn’t care about people like me,” Vyvyan grumbles. Rick flashes an expression of confusion. “I’m a poof! Ain’t that against the rules or something?” 

“Please! God dropped that one about a century ago. Humanity hasn’t yet caught on, apparently. The point is, somewhere very, very, very deep down is some good in you. You wouldn’t want to be a bloody doctor if you didn’t!” Vyvyan is silent. “Am I right?” 

“No, you’re not. Doctors make a lot of money. That’s the only draw.” 

“Oh come on, will you knock it off with the tough guy act?” 

“Will you knock it off with the meddling in my life?” Vyvyan storms off to the bathroom and slams the door behind him. Rick sits there in a slump. 

He decides to sit out in the garden and stay out of Vyvyan’s way. He looks up into the empty, starless sky. Rick knows he’ll most certainly fail this task, and when he gets sent back home he’ll be a laughing stock. For a second, he really thought he could pull this off. But who was he kidding? He’s just a bloody fuck up, and that’s all he’ll ever be. He’ll never gain the respect of his higher ups, and he’ll never accomplish anything he’s proud of. He should just lay in the dirt forever so he can never bother anyone or mess anything up again. 

Rick isn’t sure how long he’s been laying there moping when he hears the back door creak open slowly. He sits up, blinks a few times, and sees Vyvyan standing there sheepishly. Rick stubbornly waits for Vyvyan to break the silence first. 

Vyvyan makes a noise of frustration, then takes a deep breath. “I, um… do you want to come back inside?”

“Why? I’m trying not to meddle in your life.” Rick picks some dead grass from the ground. 

“Look, I rented a film a few nights back, do you wanna watch it with me? It’s dumb and girly, so maybe you’ll like it.” 

Rick smiles. He’ll take that as an apology. 

He does like the movie, but Vyvyan still looks incredibly under the weather. Since Vyvyan extended the olive branch, Rick wants to return the gesture. “If it’s any consolation,” he says. “I would’ve gone on a second date with you.” 

Vyvyan doesn’t look away from the screen. “Thanks,” he replies, emotionless. Rick knows it means a lot to him, though. 

They get along just fine after that. Vyvyan doesn’t talk about the failed date again, and Rick doesn’t ask. Everything goes on as usual, until Michael suddenly appears while Rick kills time in the flat and Vyvyan works (Rick is going through the bookcase which is more of a junk case than a bookcase.He flips through the medical books, cringing at the assorted gore but stopping every few moments to gaze upon the scantily clad anatomy models). 

“Evening, Prick.” Michael looks around and turns up his nose. “This place is a shithole, aint it?” 

Rick nearly jumps out of his skin. “ _ Ha ha,”  _ he says, turning around to glare at him. “I see what you did there, put a little P in front of my name and now I'm a prick, nice work. Ever think about getting into comedy?” 

“How’s the final assignment that will ultimately decide your fate?” he asks. “No pressure.” 

“I’ll have you know it’s going fantastic, thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah? Then how come I don’t see any change in that heathen’s soul yet?” 

“Who says he hasn’t changed?” 

“God, you berk! What an idiotic question!” 

For the first time, Rick feels the need to defend Vyvyan. “H-he’s not as bad as everyone seems to think he is, you know! Just because he isn’t like everyone else--” 

“God has guidelines. Vyvyan Basterd follows none of them. The judgement has been made, end of story. Stop trying to pretend like you’re improving the man.” 

“I’m really not trying to make myself look better!” Rick insists. “I know I’m a bit crap at my job sometimes, but Vyvyan is a good person once you get to know him! Maybe head office made the wrong call on this one!”

Michael’s expression is deadly. “Are you questioning God? Are you saying God was  _ wrong?”  _

“I know He’s never wrong! But I’m telling you Mike, there is something good in that human being. You’ve got to believe me, he deserves salvation, he--” 

“Forty-eight hours. That is it. If you can’t make his soul more pure, you’re finished. That’s the last word on that.” In a snap, Michael disappears. 

Rick is furious. He can’t understand why he seems to be the only one in the universe who can see that Vyvyan is already good. He then questions himself; is he wrong about Vyvyan? Maybe Rick is only seeing what he wants to see. Maybe he’s hoping so badly that Vyvyan’s soul is pure so that he can save his own skin. Perhaps it’s only wishful thinking? But it simply can’t be! Rick meant every word he said to Vyvyan on the night of the failed date. As gruff and rough around the edges as Vyvyan is, Rick actually enjoys being around him. He isn’t sure why, he’s never felt such an attachment to a human before but he knows it’s there. What about God, though? He’s never been wrong before, since the beginning of eternity. Or has he? 

Forty-eight hours is almost up. Rick is quite anxious and can’t stand still as he spends another day killing time at Vyvyan’s. He’s flipped through all the interesting parts of the medical books, went through all the records that Vyvyan seems to think is music for some reason, and even organized his desk. When Rick glances at the clock he sees that Vyvyan was meant to come home half an hour ago from work, and he begins to get even more anxious. Vyvyan isn’t often late. He’s hoping that nothing bad happened when he hears the front door open. 

“Vyvyan, I’m so glad you’re home! I ran out of things to do!” Rick’s smile fades when he meets Vyvyan’s eyes. “Vyvyan, are you okay…?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Vyvyan mumbles. He stomps to his room, and comes back a few minutes late rout of his work clothes and back into his usual jeans, band tee and denim vest. He doesn’t even look at Rick as he goes directly to the fridge and begins to chug a beer. This couldn’t be good. 

Suddenly it hits him. He had appeared at Vyvyan’s work a few times just to check on him, and the third time he popped up he noticed a woman in the waiting room of the hospital. Something was off about her, but he didn’t think much of it. Now it all made sense. Rick quietly approaches Vyvan as he sits slumped on the sofa. “Um… was it, by any chance, something to do with that lady?” 

Vyvyan whips his head round to glare at Rick in surprise. “How-- oh, of course, you were spying on me.” 

“Not spying, just checking in. So it was…” 

“If you know what happened, why are you making me repeat it?” Vyvyan doesn’t look in the mood to play any games. 

“I could tell by her soul she was going to die, but… was she your patient? Did you… have to see her die?” 

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t I? Catch the fucking hint.” 

“You’re crying, Vyvyan! Vyv--”

“Don’t try to comfort me! It was my bloody fault!” Vyvyan storms off to his room, but despite slamming the door shut Rick appears right beside him. 

“Why on earth would you say it was your fault?” Rick asks. He’s genuinely sad over the fact that this is how Vyvyan feels. 

Vyvyan wipes a few tears away and groans. He grabs a pack of fags off his desk and takes one. “Did you rearrange my desk too, you bastard?” 

They sit on the bed together as Vyvyan smokes silently. When he’s almost done with his cigarette, Rick thinks it’s finally okay to ask, “What happened?” 

Vyvyan takes a deep breath and stares at the wall. “We had her in a bed… her vitals were all over the place. When her heart rate started going through the roof…” He can’t care enough to try to hide the tears now. “The doc told me to go grab a particular instrument… I practically sprinted to get it but when I came back… it was too late.” 

Rick shakes his head sadly. “Oh, Vyvyan… don’t tell me you think she died because you didn’t get there fast enough.”

“She’d be alive if I had gotten there faster, I reckon.” 

“Don’t you dare think that!” When Rick wraps his arms around Vyvyan he tenses up at first. “Vyvyan, she was going to die. I know these sorts of things. Whether you got there in one second or five, she was going to pass on. Please don’t blame yourself.” 

Appearing at the worst time as always, Mike manifests into the room with his hands on his hips. “Of course,” Rick groans. 

“Who the hell is this prick?” Vyvyan asks, pointing at Mike. 

“I’m the prick that decides  _ this  _ prick’s fate! And it appears to have already been decided. You failed, Rick. It’s time to go.” 

“Go  _ where?” _ Vyvyan asks. “Are you like, the head angel or whatever?” 

“I am the head angel, or whatever. This poor excuse for a savior was supposed to turn you into a holy, virtuous man.” 

“You are pretty bullocks at that bit,” Vyvyan says to Rick, who sneers in response. 

“So what are you waiting for? Come on, to purgatory you go,” Mike demands, beckoning with a hand for Rick to follow him. Rick is frozen in place. He doesn’t want to leave. He  _ can’t  _ leave. 

“Hey uh, Mr. Head Angel Man,” Vyvyan interjects. “Instead of purgatory, how about his punishment is… he stays with me? I’m pretty unholy and sinful and all that, shouldn’t that be punishment enough?” 

Rick lights up. “Yes! Please! I mean, I do think it would be an appropriate punishment.” 

Mike throws his hands up in the air in defeat. “Fine! Much less paperwork anyway. But you do know that if I leave you here, in the human world, your angel privileges are revoked. You’ve gotta be human, too.” 

Rick didn’t think that would be one of the terms of this new arrangement. With nervousness he glances over at Vyvyan, who surprisingly gives him a reassuring smile. With courage from Vyvyan’s support, Rick stares Mike right into the eyes and says, “So be it.” 

A flash of light, a puff of smoke, and Mike is gone. Rick and Vyvyan are confused. “Do you feel any different?” Vyvyan asks.

“Not really,” Rick says flatly. He tries to transport, and then, well, it becomes quite obvious. “Oh gosh, I’m human.” 

“Sucks to be you,” Vyvyan says. 

“Hey… thank you,” Rick says. “For saving me. Why?” 

“None of your business,” Vyvyan smiles. “Let’s go watch some TV, and I’ll fill you in on all the fun human things you’ve been missing out on all these years.” 

Rick never felt like he was meant to be an angel. He feels like he’s meant to be here. 


End file.
